This Is Your Story
by JohnathanSinistra
Summary: Taylor triggers with the ability to summon Aeons from Final Fantasy X. Follow her as she discovers her own story. Crossover Post from Spacebattles
1. This is it

I knew something was wrong the moment I stepped into Winslow.

Winslow had a reputation for being a festering pit of gang trainees and violence which was terrible for any other public school. But other public schools weren't located in Brockton Bay where three gangs fought almost daily to secure their foothold in the city. And it wasn't the capes or the police that got the short end of the stick. It was usually the civilians that were just trying to live their lives and eke out a living. I was one such person, just trying to be unnoticed wearing baggy jeans and a black jacket to hide. Sometimes I wished I had the power to go invisible and just live life. It seemed like today my wish wasn't gonna come true though.

People's eyes seemed to chase me as I walked down the hall to my locker, even more so than usual. There was a tension to the air, like the prelude to something terrible. This immediately set my paranoia up a gear. The Trio hadn't so much as coughed in my direction for the past month. No pranks, no comments about my appearance, just nothing. And wasn't that a miracle itself but, I knew that it was only a matter of time before they came back with a vengeance. They always do this, give me...hope only to take it away from me the next. So when I stopped in front of my locker, getting ready to open it I breathed a sigh of relief that nothing had happened so far and immediately regretted it.

The Smell.

Oh god, the smell.

And it was coming from my locker. Tears came unbidden into my eyes as I staggered back from the sheer force of it. My nose hair's curled in abject horror. I could hear Emma's voice laugh somewhere behind me. My mind beginning to catch up now that this was the Trio's prank. A small part of me wanted to run away and not continue. But, running now would be them winning. So I soldiered forward and entered my code, opening the door all while breathing through my mouth. Which actually was worse as I could practically taste the smell now.

The inside of my locker looked like a scene out of a biological horror movie. There was just a pile of of...of things. It looked like it was moving as well. The problem though was that the sight of the inside of my locker was so shocking I had forgotten to breathe through my mouth for a split second and that was enough. Swinging the door open was like opening an oven door. The smell that rushed out was too intense for my poor nose...and my stomach.

"Ewww Loner Girl is throwing up everywhere!"

"What is it Taylor, trying to start a collection."

Too busy emptying my insides I didn't notice the hands moving towards my back before it was too late.

With a rush, my face met that filth along with the steel that was the back of my locker. A second of me flailing about trying to get free was met with a thud and click, signaling my only way out is blocked. I stared in the darkness before my brain caught up.

"PLEASE, LET ME OUT!" I screamed. Pounding on the doors of the metal locker from inside. The smell was getting worse and worse the more I stayed in. I could feel what seemed to be countless bugs skittering about in the filth and on me no doubt they were enjoying it but not the same for me.

"PLEASE"

"Please"

"Please"

My voice was getting softer with every use as I realized that help wouldn't come. No one would risk their necks for the loner girl in school. Was this where I would die? I quickly thought to myself. The horror of this was that this could be where I actually die. I redoubled my efforts, my voice long screamed raw from use. I don't know how long it was before I finally passed out from the event. But a single thought came to my head.

[DESTINATION]

I just want to be free.

[AGREEMENT]

[TRAJECTORY]

Free of all the Sin in my life.

[AGREEMENT]

I thought I saw something flash by before being quickly forgotten.

All I remember is the Hymn of the Fayth.

Author's Note:

This is my first Worm crossover. I hope I do both series proud. This is just a prologue while I finish up the next post. Until then.

EDIT: added more detail and world building while fixing format errors and well everything really.


	2. You Cried

I woke up to a white ceiling and the steady beeping of medical equipment. My head pounding all different kinds of Sunday. I stared blankly at the ceiling for a while letting my mind catch up. The Trio, the pranks, and...the locker. With a groan, I blearily blinked the sleep away.

"Taylor?" Someone spoke up from beside me.

I slowly moved my head over to the voice letting my vision rest on the person who had spoken up. He looked like he had aged another five years. The lines on his face were more pronounced as if he hadn't slept in a long time. There was a sort of haggard hope in his expression like a delirious man in a desert who found an oasis. To other people who would've just been that middle-aged skinny and balding man from across the street. To me though?

"Dad" I croaked. My throat definitely did not like that sounding more like a frog than a human voice. And my Dad was of the same thought because he quickly got up to make a glass of water for me. Before I knew it he had quickly brought the cup to my mouth letting me drink deeply from it. Feeling the cool liquid go down was heavenly even with the taste of metal from it being tap water. But, it was a familiar taste and it did wonders to my dry throat. Finishing the entire cup I took a moment to recenter myself and began asking questions. Questions I needed answers too.

"Where am I?" I forced the words out achingly slow testing my throat doing so.

"Brockton Bay Hospital" Dad replied which explained the white bed and medical equipment. Dad picked up after answering my question with one of his own. One I wasn't really comfortable answering.

"What happened to you, Taylor?" Dad started off. "You...you were in bad shape and the doctors wouldn't let me even see you until you were stable." He grimaced the memories playing about on his face through his expression.

What could I say to that? I had never told Dad anything ever since Mom died. He just wasn't the same person anymore. It was like, he was living with his sorrow. Instead of fighting it, no, he probably never even believed fighting was an option. He used to wake up early with mom and I could come downstairs to the sound of laughter, the smell of coffee drifting through the kitchen. When Mom died everything changed for both him and me. He began to go to work more like a robot. It was good for him that he managed to do so but it became routine. For me though, he just stopped being a father all of a sudden. And here I am in a hospital bed getting told I came close to dying with a father who still doesn't know what happened.

Did he even care? Coming home from work every-

Breath in, Hold for 5 seconds

Breath out

"I don't want to go back." I murmured to myself. My dad turned his head but I knew he didn't hear me no one ever did. It was just like the locker again where everyone would ignore poor Taylor dying. My breath hitched in my throat at that thought. I didn't want to go back anymore, what was I thinking about winning when they were perfectly willing to kill me in that locker. It wasn't about winning anymore as it was about surviving the next day.

"I don't want to go back" I stated a bit more loudly and this time he did hear and just like that it felt like a great weight had been lifted off of me. And I remembered what it was like, to be free. The dam I had been keeping broke and I began to tell Dad everything. I usually wasn't like this but for some reason, all the fears and hesitation was gone now. Coming back from summer camp to a changed best friend.

The Trio. The escalating pranks and harassment. The Locker. I told him everything and with every little thing I told him what happened to me, it felt as if little blows were hitting him. His grimace turned to frowns then turned to anger and back to cold acceptance.

I kept talking even when the tears wouldn't stop. My throat was still sore but I trudged on intent on completing this one thing. Even when Dad got up to hug me letting me feel his warmth. And when I finally stopped talking my Dad, Daniel Hebert, who lost his wife, almost lost his daughter, and lost even himself?

He cared.

He stroked my hair lovingly like mom used to do whenever I got sick. He held my hand as I cried into his shirt that smelt like the ocean. After a long while, we separated and I definitely did not giggle at the flabbergasted look my Dad gave his wet shirt of snot and tears.

"Well, what are shirts for, right?" He joked. And we both started breaking down from the whole situation. It was such a dry joke and it wasn't even funny but...It felt as if the room gave off a warmer glow from it. I hadn't laughed in what was the longest time and our laughter echoed out, silencing the constant hum of equipment and beeps. I think I could even hear a choir singing a beautiful melody in the distance.

"Hey, Dad?" I spoke up catching my breath in between giggles. "Is there a choir performing nearby?" I mentioned finally calming down from that fit earlier.

"A choir? I don't hear anything." Dad listened to the air a bit before answering back. But that was strange I could definitely hear it now that I focused enough. A great many voices in unison. Singing in a high pitched song I never heard of. It sounded religious like a prayer of some sort. A slight smile came to my lips and I could feel myself calming down.

"Really? They sound so amazing." And they were. What sounded like a lead female singer leading the voices into a gentle crescendo and then a fall. Before the lower notes joined in as well. It was beautiful and memorizing. No other way to describe it. I think my Dad must have noticed how focused I was to the song with a smile on my lips, so he twitched his head to and fro trying to catch the song.

But, like all good things, the voices slowly faded away into nothing. And rose up again. This time a younger female voice singing solo. Images of a majestic bird with wings so large that they blocked out the sun ran through my head. I knew who she was and her name came blaring across my mind.

Valefor

The starting of a headache I did not know I had begun. My head was pounding slightly as I tried to call back those scenes. I felt all of a sudden a shortness of breath as if the wind around me had died out. I unconsciously began to breathe heavier and heavier trying to intake more oxygen. It didn't help though as the ground was moving closer to me. My Dad's worried shouts a background noise.

Valefor, why did that name sound familiar. Images of a vast temple flowed through my mind. The singing...no the Hymn continued. It felt right to use that word instead. I staggered in place keeping myself from falling. Then all at once, my headache got even worse before I felt it overflow from my head.

"Taylor what?" I heard my Dad start to speak before the room was filled with a blinding light.

The source of the light coming from myself. It felt like the light was wrapping around me making me something. The light began to die down just as quickly as it came and I felt a bit heavier. My hand instinctively gripping after the light show was met with an object of some sort in my hand. A pole? And was that a bell I could hear? My eyes readjusted and I brought the offending object close to me so I could see it better. It was well, it was an intricate staff with a circle design at the top. Leaves made of metal were displayed almost like an emblem inside the circle. My arms twitched and I could now hear and see the bell at the base of the pole ring and move about from my movement. My eyes drifted from the pole thing to my arms to see that they were covered in some sort of new flowing fabric.

My drafty hospital gown had been replaced with some sort of flowery robe. It was a shoulderless piece with strange pink and white sleeves that seemed to be tapered by string to my upper arm. A sort of white sash covered my top and underneath I could feel what seemed to be a camisole. A delicate middle piece that I knew was called an obi from my mom's lesson about the subject. It was in a soft yellow with orange highlights. Detailed flowers were woven into the design with a blue thread. A sort of flower pin hung on the left side with long pieces of string hanging loose from it. My bare feet had been replaced with boots as I continued my inspection. The bottom half of the outfit was a purple pleated, flower-patterned long skirt. In total, it looked like something that belonged in a cultural museum than me wearing it. My inspection finished I looked up to see my dad, mouth wide open gaping at me.

That was kind of when I realized something. A kid's dream I used to have.

The Hymn in my head. The bright lights and transformation to new clothes and staff.

"Dad...I think I'm a cape."


	3. Its The Right Thing To Do

Almost dying and finding out you're a cape sucks.

Oh sure, you have cool superpowers now. Maybe you got the ability to fly or maybe even be a little Alexandria lite but for all the superpowers that I could've gotten none of them could help a now helicopter dad passed out on the floor. I stared flabbergasted at his still body while my mind could tell me that yes my dad had indeed fainted and that I should probably help him. If that was all it was then I'm sure I could've done something about it I thought in hindsight as I bent down to pick up my dad from the floor. The problem was the loud racket he had made falling down and when you are in a hospital, loud noises tend to invoke the quickest responses.

The sound of rushing footsteps reached my ears as I struggled to lift Dad from where he had fallen and up towards the hospital bed I had just vacated. When the noise reached its peak right outside the room, the door was opened to a redfaced nurse looking about ready to either reprimand or die of exhaustion I wasn't sure I which before she immediately snapped her mouth shut and took a look at what was happening. Her eyes slowly drifted from my dad's prone body I was lifting before almost achingly slow trace my body out before making eye contact with me. There were a few moments of silence before I decided to break it the only way I knew how.

"Hi?" I said to her raising my hand in an awkward greeting.

That seemed to do the trick as the nurse came back from her stupor and retraced her steps...right back out the room closing the door shut with a soft click. I looked vacantly at the closed door and began to curse my awkwardness of not talking to people for the longest time. After that, I finally managed to plop my dad down on the bed before moving to the room's exit. From behind the wooden door, I could hear a rapid tapping and conversation. The words 'PRT' and 'Cape' seemed to be thrown about which led me to believe the nurse had probably just called in the Protectorate. Backing away from the door I did what was probably an idiotic thing for someone who got caught doing something bad and took the seat my dad was on earlier, sat down, and waited. It was ironic how I and my father had changed places. Now I'm the one sitting on the bed waiting for him to wake up. I didn't need to wait long though because in what felt like fifteen minutes the sound of a door opening drew my attention again.

Miss Militia came into the room with all the grace of a protectorate hero. It was like the person on the television seemed to jump out into real life and the first thing I noticed was that she was shorter than I thought. With dark hair and olive skin, stylized fitted army fatigues and her most iconic features a scarf and sash both patterned after the American flag she was someone that while not as popular as Armsmaster was debated to be more trusted than him. Miss Militia began to take in the scenery most of her attention I realized was on me though. She did, however, took one look at my dad (who was still passed out) and instead of the reaction from before she moved forward from the door leaving it slightly ajar. A small thought of mine realized that it would probably be a good escape route if something started. It probably didn't look good from her angle with me in my cape outfit? Yeah, cape outfit. I stayed seated not because I was scared or anything but well when a hero you had looked up while growing up suddenly appeared before you, you would be nervous right? At least that was what my mind though. My body though took notice of the pistol holstered on her right side with a hand resting beside it.

Miss Militia seemed to have noticed how I hadn't moved since entering the room and traced my vision. The pistol turned into a green blur of energy before reappearing as an army knife strapped around her thigh. The brief light show over I redirected my attention to Miss Militia's face and noticed the eye smiles she seemed to be giving me.

"Miss Hebert I assume?" Miss Militia asked directing the question to me. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I mean. Yes! I am ok? Um, I don't know what to say." I nervously replied.

"Well Miss Hebert, considering the circumstances..." She trails off looking at me than a longer look at my dad on the bed. "I think it would be best if we just talk." Miss Militia easily slid over grabbing one of the visitor chairs before sitting down across from me.

"Miss Hebert-" she started up again before I cut her off.

"Taylor. Just call me Taylor." I squeaked. And oh god I just cut off Miss Militia. "I-I mean there's two Hebert in here you know." I desperately tried to save myself. Well one of them was passed out currently. Embarrassed at my blunder the floor looked really nice today.

Miss Militia not missing a beat, quirked an eyebrow in what was probably amusement at that statement.

"Taylor." Her eye crinkles intensified as I turned to face her again. "Taylor, can you tell me what

happened here? I know it might be hard for you but, the hospital is worried about you and your father." She spoke as if I was a child. Strangely it didn't feel condescending though, not like the snide comments I would hear at Winslow but, it was gentle if I had to describe it. Miss Militia is a hero if there was anyone I could trust that would get things done it was her right? I was afraid though. That the same thing would happen, I would be ignored for the more popular people and quickly cast aside. My thoughts took a dark spiral before a light tap on my shoulder brought me back. Miss Militia had reached out to rest her hand reassuringly on my shoulder. I took a deep, calming breath and took the plunge. I recapped the same story I told my dad just moments before.

* * *

By the end of my story, her face had grown sterner a vast difference from the warm atmosphere she gave off earlier. She seemed to radiate anger even though it didn't show through her scarf.

"And this Trio you mentioned," her voice stone-cold now, "do you have any names you can provide? Along with the person who had pushed you into the locker?" She queried.

"Yeah, Emma Barnes, Madison Clements, and Sophia Hess," I replied. And as soon as I finished stating the names of the Trio Miss Militia's frown seemed to deepen a little before disappearing again so fast It could've been an illusion.

"I see." She said slowly as if testing the words out. "Taylor with how recent this must be for you I know it would be tough but would you be willing to come down to the PRT HQ to do some power testing?"

This was a choice I knew was coming. But, did I deserve it? Being constantly put down. Always ending up alone. The Loner Girl Taylor. The hymn grew louder in my head as if calling to me. I let it soothe me with its beautiful melody. Miss Militia noticed if the slight shifting of her chair I heard was it.

"I'll come." My decision made up. "I'll come to PRT HQ." The Trio had pegged me as a worthless piece of space. I would show them that I wasn't. I was gonna be a hero.

With promises of a future visit or phone call to hash out more details later on Miss Militia took to leave, closing the door that had been ajar the entire time. I heard a shuffle of footsteps walking away and then it was almost silent again if it wasn't for the 24-hour choir in my head. Thinking a little on that I decided to experiment with my powers. Closing my eyes shut I followed the Hymn in my head. It was always there, The Hymn was always there in the back of my head even when I was talking to Miss Militia I could still hear it just muted. I figured if I had powers and the Hymn I was hearing was a part of my powers then...

I pushed the Hymn further back and with a shimmer, I saw even through my closed eyes I was back to normal. I opened up my eyes and looked down to see my hospital gown again. A bit breezier but at least I wasn't in my cape outfit anymore. I began to take a mental checklist in my head, Okay, Taylor. You have got a power that comes with a costume, a never-ending song in your head, and a staff. It's like one of those magical girl's shows I used to watch as a kid with Emma-

Yeah let's not go there

"Ughh. My head." Dad said while coming to and clutching his head. He took a moment before suddenly sitting up and wildly looking around the room before stopping at me.

"Oh thank god, it was just a dream. Hey, kiddo did I miss anything." He said looking relieved. Yeah, sorry, dad.

"Dad?" I brought the Hymn forward again. This time noticing some weird wisps forming around me before coming back into costume even faster than the last time. "It wasn't a dream."

My dad took a long-suffering look and heaved a big sigh. "Taylor, just what." His expression shifting from exasperation to anger then finally to acceptance. The negotiating part of him must've begun to come out because he turned to me and asked out loud.

"PRT, no the Wards." Sorry, dad...again.

"I talked to Miss Militia already, she came when you fainted." My dad raised a single eyebrow confusion etched on his face.

"Ok, kiddo I don't know what's what anymore so explain." And I did. I talked to him that I was eventually going to have to go to the PRT HQ to test my powers which he was in solid agreement with. The meeting with me and Miss Militia and my decision to fess up to her left him gloomy.

"Taylor honey?" My dad came back from his self imposed gloom.

"Yeah?" I replied

"I was fine with you not coming to talk to me before any of this happened. And I know I wasn't the father you wanted me to be ever since Annette's death but I think Annette would agree with me this one time." He finished speaking before looking at me his expression sending alarms ringing in my head.

"You're grounded." he stated with finality.

Yup, being a cape most definitely sucked.

* * *

Miss Militia was not having a good day.

A little known aspect of her power was that she never slept. There weren't any dreams to be had when you could remember practically everything. But still, it was something she came to accept in her life like with all things. The coffee machine broke at PRT HQ which meant none of that sweet morning liquid she loved, god forbid Armsmaster would have that running at "100% efficient" whatever that meant. Speaking of the leader, Armsmaster was late for another meeting due to some tinkering, something about a lie detector. Vista's usual complaints and Clockblocker which she really hoped they knew that it was Armsmaster job to handle those complaints but she didn't blame them. Armsmaster was more robot then even a robot that some theories on PHO really took off. She would have to thank Dragon sometime later. The Australian Tinker was good for him in ways that took off.

Clockblocker, yeah. That boy would be the death of the PR division.

But, what really started this downward spiral was the brand new cape, the recently triggered Taylor Hebert. After getting a report from the hospital of an unidentified cape in one of the patient's rooms they had immediately scrambled. A fact the PRT didn't want the public to know was trigger events. The worst day of a parahumans life was also when they got powers, which had the added bonus of making everything significantly worse.

Walking into the Hospital she was quickly guided by staff members to room 412 which held a Taylor Hebert and Daniel Hebert who had been visiting his daughter due to an accident at school. Her file screamed inconsistency though. Police reports of a young girl trapped in a locker filled with biochemical waste for potentially hours and none of these had tripped the alarms at HQ. It screamed cover-up of some sort. Half of the job was to locate potential capes as soon as they could to prevent the gangs from receiving them with open arms.

She nodded to the three PRT officers who had followed her to this point. A quick gesture to guard the entrance to the room. Her power shifted into a small pistol in the empty holster she carried. It was potentially a hostage situation with the father in the room and it didn't hurt to be prepared. Tensing up she opened the door. What she saw wasn't a hostage situation though.

It was a small hospital room, made more so by the fact that two others were there with her. An older man was sleeping on the bed while a young girl had turned to face her while still seated next to him. When she saw her in the room it was like a calm washed over her. She hadn't felt that relaxed in ages heck her power threatened to turn her gun to a water pistol. It also meant that she had to go through master stranger protocols immediately upon returning to base. It was what Taylor revealed that day that had made her day.

So here she was debriefing the situation, no the mess, as if the universe trying was to make everything worse Taylor could have possibly triggered due to the influence of a Ward.

"Let me get this straight." Miss Militia refocused on the monitor displaying Director Piggot who had just spoken up. She, on the other hand, was stuck in confinement for 48 hours while the PRT checked the full extent of her being compromised.

"A recently triggered parahuman has a master effect and is currently recovering at Brockton Bay Hospital of which one of our Wards in their civilian identity could have caused her to trigger through an extensive bullying campaign and what could have been attempted murder?" Piggot breathed angrily through the end.

"That is correct Director. Taylor was receptive to a PRT power testing but I did not want to push to join the wards with Shadow Stalker's situation unresolved. Director Piggot, what should we do now?"

Piggot growled. "Fucking kiddie gloves. I want to know what happened and Winslow, yesterday. Get Armsmaster to break out those electric cuffs to the top of his priority list. As for Shadow Stalker." She trailed off before breaking into a grin. "We don't let her know anything and if what this new parahuman was saying was true? Let's just say I've got a nice place in mind for her."


End file.
